As I Have Come To Believe
by Cruxifixus
Summary: Updated Chapter Two! A British Agent arrives back in the grid after extensive operations abroad but will she make it as a 'Spook? Please R&R.
1. A new name, an old face

HQ  
  
Hanover Street, W1  
  
"One Sophie Boyne" Harry threw the personnel file onto the table; it skidded a few feet across the polished surface and came to rest in the hands of Tom Quinn "fresh in from field operations with a remarkably sharp eye".  
  
Tom fingered the edge of the dossier before flipping it open and studying the picture inside. He was sure he had seen the face before but could not place it.  
  
"CIA?" Quinn questioned, running his gaze down a list of vital statistics.  
  
"KGB" Harry replied, seating himself at the head of the table, fixing Tom with his gaze "ex-KGB, she and her brother completed a recent sting on a notorious drugs ring in Moscow known as 'Klasta'"  
  
Tom continued to sort through the file as Harry Pearce spoke, absorbing the information his superior dictated. Nearing the back he came upon a set of recent photographs including several crime scene evidence proofs. The photographs showed a murder scene directly adjacent to Red Square, the Kremlin casting shadows across the cobbles.  
  
"He was murdered by the head of the group, a Miletsa Kcokovch, wanted for the murder of three agents and countless civilians" with this, Tom pulled Benjamin Boyne's autopsy report and accompanying coroners records from the file.  
  
"Shot between the eyes" Tom mused scanning the picture "How very Russian". With this he pulled an identification sheet from the file and cast a stunned glance at the head of the counter terrorism department " Classified Level Clearance?"  
  
"Like I said Tom, she was in deep" Harry laid profile photographs in front of him, sounding the name of each alias as he did so.  
  
"She was a British undercover agent in Russia?" Tom laid out the stills before him, studying the face in each one.  
  
"She played the Russian government for three years, I doubt they themselves even know her true identity to this day" Harry learned back in his chair, the worn leather squeaking softly "Fluent in seven languages including Russian and Serb-Croat".  
  
The proofs showed the face doctored through costume and disguise, many of the same features visible throughout. Tom had seen this woman, perhaps even worked with her but even with a list of alias identifications he still could not trace the name or face.  
  
"She has connections within Government Communications Headquarters" Harry mused, his voice suddenly serious.  
  
Tom looked up from the file, fixing an intent gaze upon his superior. Connections between GCHQ and MI5 had never been entirely secure. Tom raised a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes in disbelief, the same 'connections' in the past had almost cost them Ruth Evershed, an agent that had arrived in the grid after receiving a secondment from GCHQ. She was found to be leaking secrets back to her former employers and cautioned to within an inch of her careers grasp.  
  
"We cannot judge her by the standard Ruth chose to create" Tom breathed, removing his hands from his face, staring down at his fingers before looking up at Harry "we've learnt that lesson".  
  
Harry nodded silently, rising from his chair. "She is an outstanding agent that wants to come home".  
  
The closed file sat in the middle of the table, the name 'Boyne, Sophie' emblazoned across the cover. Tom scrutinized the agent's registration code; every picture in his mind was different apart from one feature. Time and time again he was drawn back to her eyes, the natural colouring an opaline blue.  
  
"I want you and Zoë to collect her from Heathrow" Harry broke him from his reverie "Danny is already there with some of Colin's best toys".  
  
Tom looked out towards the large border windows, the summer sky lightning to a pale blue. His mind still racing, Tom stood and pushed his chair back under the table. He turned to leave but stopped short of the door; turning back to Harry.  
  
"How will I recognise her?" He questioned, fixing his gaze on the departmental head.  
  
"I thought that would have been obvious," Tom grinned at Harry's reply and nodded as he reached for the doorknob.  
  
The offices of the Counter Terrorism Department buzzed with muted conversation and the soft whir of busy machinery. The gentle tap of fingers punching out words on a nearby laptop brought Tom back to his senses.  
  
"You alright?" Zoë mused, walking around Tom and sitting back at her desk "You look as if you've seen a ghost".  
  
Tom straightened up, mentally shaking himself and walked the remaining eight feet to his own desk. It seemed impossible but in the space of thirty minutes his in-tray had filled almost to the brim with transcripts and evidence briefs.  
  
"No matter what is said about this job, you got to love pushing the paperclips" Tom sighed, sifting through paperwork that had been dumped unceremoniously next his laptop.  
  
Zoë smiled and turned back to face Tom "you love it really".  
  
"No, no I really don't" he began but was interrupted by the trill of Zoë's telephone.  
  
Suspect photo's, evidence proof's, case reports and the list went on. In his mind's eye, paperwork was not one of the perks of becoming a spook. Pushing the pile to one side, Tom closed the laptop in front of him and lowered his head onto folded arms he had placed atop the folded computer.  
  
"That was Danny, he says the location is secure" Zoë replaced the receiver onto the base and turned towards Tom.  
  
"Right then, you and I are have a job to do" Tom smiled as he stood, taking an A4 manila envelope from his desk.  
  
"Would you mind telling me where we are going" She removed her coat from the back of the chair and slung it over her shoulders.  
  
Tom stooped to unlock the bottom drawer of his desk, removing a sealed document file. Placing it down, he continued to slit the dossier open and removed the contents.  
  
"Agent pick-up" he replied still examining the pages.  
  
"One of ours?" questioned Zoë falling into step beside him.  
  
"She will be, ex-KGB" she stopped short of the lift, staring after Tom.  
  
"KGB? I didn't know the Russians let their agents leave?"  
  
"They don't" Tom started, pressing the call button for the lift and glancing in her direction "she's a British agent who played the Russian government for three years,"  
  
The cast aluminium doors split open as he handed Zoë a word-processed identity file. Tom read the content over her shoulder.  
  
"Her name is Sophie Boyne, alias Natasha Marinsky" he began following Zoë's gaze to the photograph and identity credentials "born in London and educated at Oxford where she read Russian".  
  
Zoë was stunned; obviously still baffled how a British spook in a foreign country had managed to infiltrate one of the most notorious spy rings in the world.  
  
"But how did she get away from the Soviet Union without being traced?"  
  
Tom looked up from the sheet he had been studying, pushing it back into the file as the lift doors slid open "She faked her own death".  
  
Quinn stepped out into the bright sunlight, pocketing the file inside his jacket, removing a set of keys from his pocket. 


	2. Secrets among friends

**Pick-Up Location, **

**Heathrow Airport**

"Yeah thanks mate" Tom snapped his mobile closed and replaced it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He yawned deeply, rubbing his face vigorously as he leaned back in the car seat.

"Late night?" Zoë mused, smiling as she playfully ruffled the back of Tom's hair. He batted the hand away and sighed, closing his eyes as he leant against the headrest.

She sat and watched Quinn in silence; he was not usually one to let ill health disturb his work but Zoë knew something was wrong. If she pressed the question of well being on Tom, he would out-wardly deny any feelings of pestilence.

"Something like that" was Tom's only reply, taking to watching the location for their co-workers signal to enter the building.

Silence filled the car; neither of the pair uttered a sound to shatter the stillness. Zoë had noted a change in his breathing; it had become more concentrated as if Tom were trying to prevent himself from vomiting. She watched the entrance to the Check-in desks, scrutinizing every face, each passing body. Time ticked past for what seemed to be hours but only manifested itself into minutes, the uncomfortable feeling lingering in the air made Zoë feel somewhat on edge. The sharp trill of Tom's mobile cracked the silence like a gunshot, the message 'Private Number' flashing up on the screen.

"Right" Tom spoke the single word into the phone, disconnected the call and turned to Zoë "The planes' landed, we're on". With this, Tom clicked the car door open and stepped out into the car park.

Turning back to lock the door, Tom flinched as he felt a sharp pain in his right side; his vision swam briefly and he placed a hand atop the car to steady himself. Shaking off the moment and regaining his equilibrium, he placed the key into the lock and turned it firmly to the right. Sighing deeply helped to eliminate the remainder of the pain as Tom pushed himself away from the car.

"What's wrong Tom?" Zoë enquired, her concerned tone caused Tom to stop as she placed a hand atop his arm.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it" he shook the hand gently from his arm as he stepped through the slowly revolving door leading into the Arrivals department.

The constant drone of voices and machinery coursed through Tom's head; he mentally shook himself, trying desperately to clear his mind. Wandering towards the main lounge, both agents cast glances around the glass-fronted offices above them. Zoë's gaze fell upon a booth directly above her, the telltale signs of surveillance equipment only just visible to the trained eye reflecting in the glass.

"The plane landed at 11:50, Danny says that the first of the passengers are due from baggage reclaim at 12:20" Tom checked his watch and ran a hand through his hair.

Zoë sighed outwardly and began to wonder towards the padded benches that lined the Arrival's lounge. Resigned to waiting, Tom followed her; silently welcoming the chance to sit back down, the pain in his side had begun to throb dully. The pair sat in silence, each glancing up intermittently at the arrivals board.

"Tom" Zoë touched Quinn's arm, directing his gaze towards the steady stream of bodies appearing through the gate. Both agents rose in unison, taking their predetermined positions around the lounge.

Traveller after holidaymaker passed before them, many pulling large suitcases and sporting burnt crimson complexions. Zoë shifted her position from beside the small café eatery, placing the half empty cup of coffee on the table in front of her. Casting a sly glance towards the glass booth in which Danny was concealed as words filled her earpiece.

"Cream jacket, pink scarf, dark glasses, medium navy blue suitcase" Zoë fixed her gaze on the gate as she listened to the information.

The figure in question emerged from the gate, both agents scrutinizing her appearance.

"Now Zoë" Tom's voice rippled through the airwaves.

Taking her cue, Zoë moved forward towards the barrier trying to catch the gaze of the target. The figure before her pushed away the sunglasses from her face, revealing piercing blue eyes. Recalling the code words she had read in the lift at HQ, she smiled as preceded to address the target.

"Afternoon Katie; how was the trip?" Zoë waited with baited breath for the pre-arranged answer.

The second women simply smiled, placing her Oakley sunglasses into the top right hand pocket of her jacket.

"Too much vodka and not enough sleep" She smiled as Zoë took hold of the suitcase.

Upon hearing the key words, Danny's voice again filled Tom's ears.

"Target confirmed" were the only words he heard; following both females out towards the glass fronted doors.

Stepping out into the sunshine, Tom relieved Zoë of the suitcase and led the way back through the maze of cars.

"No flies, location clear" Danny's voice crackled over the airwaves once more making Quinn jump slightly, his thoughts had been somewhere else.

"Secure the location and make sure all the equipment gets back this time" The only reply Tom heard was a hearty laugh.

The last mission that B Section had completed required an amazing backlog of kit. Tracking systems, laptops and voice ident kits were checked out but were never returned. According to Tom, during the last assignment, the equipment had been destroyed in the retreat.

The truth of the matter was that the whole consignment had lost the battle against a Challenger II Series tank. Needless to say Colin was not amused and Harry was in a word, livid.

Smiling to himself, Tom recalled the look of shock horror on Harry's face when he had informed the departmental head that kit to the tune £2.3 million was never coming home again. Sighting the vehicle, Tom inserted the key into the lock of the boot, feeling the vibration of the mechanism click through his fingers. The boot door swung upwards, a ray of dazzling light reflecting from the paintwork. Shielded by the door, Tom cringed again; the dull throb intensifying to a sharp stab. Careful to lift with his left arm, Tom placed the case gingerly into the car.

"Come on Tom, I want to hit the shops on the way back" Zoë joked, hoping to rouse him from his supposed bad mood.

Tom eyes were watering, even as a hardened Spook; he didn't think he could handle pain like this. He swiftly wiped the moisture from his face with the back of hand and slammed the boot of the car closed. He pulled in a sharp breath and clicked open the drivers door.

A/N: That's it kiddies, tell what ya think :) Feedback is always sweet!


End file.
